Cowboy Round-Up
by KevinxoShelley
Summary: Wordy and Sam resort to other means to capture the suspects.


Cowboy Round-up

As usual, I don't own Flashpoint and check out my profile for story ideas.

I know this story has potential, and I'm probably not doing it any justice, but I'll let your imagination fill in any gaps. Enjoy and thanks for reading.

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The team was responding to a hot call in the early morning hours of their shift. Winnie fed them information as they sped away in their vehicles. ''Location is a ranch called Happy Times Trails. Owner says their's a bomb in one of his stables. Potential suspects are a group of brothers. They were fired after neglecting to do their jobs. They told their boss they were going on stike until he cut them in to a share of the money the show horses were making, and that there would be trouble if he didn't.''

''Do you have a name for those brothers?'' Greg asked, pulling out a pen and pad.

''Gary Moore; B&amp;E and armed robbery. Calvin Moore; armed robbery, assult, and grand theft. Mark Moore; he was fired from his last job at a chemical plant for misuse, and indecent exposure.''

''Indecent exposure?'' Spike gave Greg a look.

''Got caught using a tree near a playground, parents weren't happy.''

''When nature calls ...'' Spike trailed of smiling.

''Thanks Winnie. Patch me through to the owner.'' Greg made sure his earpiece was firmly in place.

''You should be connected now, boss.'' Winnie said.

''Sir, my name is Sergeant Parker with the SRU. Could you tell me your name please, sir?''

''Brian. Brian Davis.''

''Hi Brian. Have you evacuated the stable?''

''Yeah. Yeah, we got all the horses in the pasture.''

''That's great. What about your people, are they clear too?''

''Yeah, the whole stable's clear.''

''Alright, just stay a safe distance away. We'll be there shortly.''

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''Can you disarm it Spike?'' Greg asked through the headset.

''Yeah. Doesn't look to complicated. I'm gonna come back to the truck and get a couple of things.'' Spike started to make his way out of the stable door, when he heard gunshots over his headset. Running up to the door for cover, he drew his side arm and called out to his teammates. ''Guys what's happening?''

''Under fire. Can you find a Sierra position?'' Ed shouted over the shots.

Spike looked around frantically, eyes stopping on a high hill not far away. ''On my way,'' he said and took off as fast as he could up the hill. Turning to look down at the scene below him, he spoke into his mic, ''Sierra in pos-'' He was cut off as the blast from the bomb shook the ground made him stumble. Regaining his balance, he stood up in time to see a rusty blue truck speeding away. ''Guys, subjects are getting away. They're heading south.''

''We're no good Spike, they slashed our tires.'' Ed banged a frusterated fist against his SUV.

''Winnie, call in Team Three to intercept and send -'' Greg jumped to the side as he heard a thundering noise behind him. He looked back around to see two horses in hot pursuit - with two of his teammates along for the ride. ''Wordy, Sam, what are you doing?''

''Our jobs,'' Wordy shouted over the pounding of hoofs.

''Though I wouldn't object to a little more padding.'' Sam grunted.

''Have you ever ridden a horse before?''

''No. It looks easier from the ground.''

They continued the chase for another half-mile, when Wordy suddenly shouted, ''Cut up here,'' leading his horse up a hill to the left.

''Where are we going?''

''I was watching the GPS coming over here. I think we can cut them off.'' Urging their horses up the hill, they topped it just in time to see the blue truck rounding the bend. Hurrying forward, they managed to fall in place about twenty feet behind them.

''They saw us, they're speeding up,'' Sam shouted.

''They'll have to slow down again soon - there's a town up ahead.''

''I would suggest shooting the tires, but being on this horse I might miss. I could always stop to fire a shot, I would lose some ground but -''

''Negative. I can see houses. If someone's out in the yard ...'' he trailed off. He checked in with Team Three and gave them an update on their location. Unfortunately, they were still too far out. Entering the downtown area, the driving of the blue truck became erratic as they tried to lose the two contables in quick turns and alleyways.

''How much longer for Team Three?'' Sam asked Wordy.

''Ten to fifteen.''

''We may not have that,'' Sam said as he saw a man jump back just in time to avoid getting run down.

''My cousin grew up here; I know the area well. Keep following them, I'll try to cut them off again.'' Wordy pulled the reins to the left. Listen intently, he lead the horse through a few more alleyways. He exited out into an developing part of the town, noticing the exposed insulation and roofing material. Hearing the squeal of tires, he turned to the right. He knew the subjects could see him and from the lunge the truck made, he knew they had sped up. Time seem to slow as his thoughts sped up. He still couldn't use his gun. They couldn't keep waiting for Team Three - the truck's driving was becoming more dangerous. His mind stopped on a thought and he radioed his boss. ''Hey boss, ask the owner if the horses know how to jump.''

After a brief pause, Greg responed, ''yes. Why?''

''No reason.'' Wordy urged his horse to full speed, waiting for the right moment.

''Sam,'' Greg inquired, ''what's he doing?''

''I think he's playing chicken with the subjects,'' he said, seeing Wordy riding staight for the truck. Sam watched wide-eyed as they got closer and closer to each other. Sam knew the truck wouldn't stop, but would Wordy be able to turn in time? His view of his teammate was obstructed for about two seconds, when all of a sudden he saw a horse head coming over the top of the truck - then the rest of it. Sam watched mystified as the horse pounded the top of the cabin of the truck before jumping again and landing solidly on the ground. The startled subjects lost control and wrecked right into one of the developing buildings. ''Are you insane?'' he asked, coming up beside Wordy.

''Quite possibly,'' he panted, jumping off the horse. The panicked voices of the team finally regestered as they made their way, guns drawn, to the vehicle. ''Subjects secured.''

''Are you two okay,'' Greg asked.

''Oh, sure,'' Sam said sarcastically, ''if you call a mild heart attack okay.''

Ingoring Sam's comment, Wordy asked, ''how much longer for Team Three?''

''Seven minutes,'' Greg said, ''just hold them tight until they get there.''

''Copy that,'' Wordy said. Looking up at Sam, he smiled, ''Well, that was fun.''

''When we get back to the station - I am so calling your wife.''


End file.
